Prisoner of War (On Hiatus)
by WrathAndRain
Summary: {AU where Edward is fifteen at the start of the Ishval War. When he transmuted his mother, he never pulled back Alphonse's soul, so he is now the last Elric left}{Mustang is already a Colonel} Edward Elric was fifteen when the Ishvalan Civil War broke out. He always detested the Amestrian military's actions there, so, along with Winry's parents, the Rockbells, he heads out to help.
1. Chapter One: Prisoner Of War

Colonel Roy Mustang looked down at the boy he had defeated not an hour earlier. It had taken him a year, but he had finally caught the Amestrian who was fighting for the Ishvalans. When the boy had arrived, word had spread quickly that one of their own was in the ranks of the Ishvalans, and he had quickly become a top priority on the Most Wanted list. His capture had come under Mustang's jurisdiction, and it had taken him a year, but he had finally managed to capture him and bring him in.

At first, when he had heard that the Ishvalan's Amestrian soldier was merely fifteen, he had wondered why people were making such a fuss, but, after that battle, he finally understood it. The boy had an alchemical power like nothing he'd ever seen! He could transmute without an array, simply by clapping his hands! Mustang planned to interogate the boy later, and make him tell how he did it. It could be a useful ability to have, Mustang thought. His thoughts returned to the boy as he growled at one of Basque Grand's men, the one holding him for Mustang's inspection.

The boy wore black pants and a shirt, and a long red cloak, with the alchemist's symbol embroidered on the back. He had long, thick blonde hair, kept back in a braid. But what fascinated Mustang most was his eyes. Those fiery, golden eyes with which he glared at Mustang now. Not that Mustang could blame him, of course. By order of Basque Grand, Mustang's superior, the boy had been collared with a thick, heavy iron collar that was sturdier than it looked, and, in Mustang's opinion, clipped far too tightly, so that it pinched and bruised his skin. The chain hanging from said collar was being held like a leash. The boy's automail arm had been removed and put away for later inspection, and his one remaining hand was shackled and pinned to a clip on the collar. Mustang was sure that it was humiliating for the boy to say the least.

The boy growled at him again and Mustang frowned at him. "Boy." He spoke clearly, in that commanding military voice that Edward loathed, because they spoke like they were so much better than everyone else. "What is your name?" But Edward Elric kept his mouth shut. These military bastards would only use his name to track down his family, the Rockbells, if he told them.

"I asked you a question." The Colonel bastard said. Still, Edward refused to answer. A few moments passed, and the Colonel said, "Are you mute, boy?"

Edward answered, through clenched teeth, "Not at all."

"Then why won't you answer my question?"

"Because I know you Military bastards. The second you get my name you'll start looking into me, my history, my family, my friends. Hell, you'll probably try to interogate my cat. So no, if you had any hopes about getting my name, you might as well kiss them goodbye, asshole-"

The Colonel slapped him. "You are speaking to a military officer! You will not use that tone of voice or insults in my presence!"

"And that's why I hate the military." Edward said, his voice low. "You always think you're so much better than everybody else! You think you're so much more important than everyone else when you use that special tone of voice you all use. Well the fact is you're just like everybody else. You aren't better than anyone. You're just a stuck up bastard with a flashy uniform, nothing more."

The Colonel glared at him, and Edward smiled inwardly. He may have lost the physical battle, but he'd won that particular verbal battle. The Colonel turned on his heel and commanded Edward's holder to follow him. The man behind him shoved Ed forward and he stumbled a little before regaining his footing. The only thing stopping him from digging his heels into the dirt was the chain the military bastard held. If he pulled on it hard enough, he would easily be able to choke Edward, and Ed had no current desire to die like that, so he moved forward, determined he would make them all pay later.

The Colonel led them to his personal quarters, a small building that was miraculously still standing, and he commanded Ed's holder to attach his chain to the loop high up on the wall. Once attached, Ed couldn't move in any direction, and he was forced to stand, if he sat down, the tight chain would choke him. Already it was pulling, so that the way-too-tight collar bit his skin harshly, making breathing uncomfortable.

The Colonel sat down on his cot and folded his hands under his chin. "So, boy, I'll ask again, what's your name?"

"Bite me!" Edward spat. The Colonel frowned again and stood up, striding towards Ed. He grabbed the chain and pulled it just a little bit higher, so that Edward could hardly breathe, and the collar pinched his skin more and it split, a tiny little cut opening up. Edward gagged and winced, and the bastard let the chain go. Ed gasped in sucked in lungfulls of air before the Colonel spoke again.

"Are you ready to tell me your name yet?" He asked, expecting the answer to be yes, probably.

"Screw you!" Ed hissed.

"Perhaps a different approach, then." He muttered. "My name is Colonel Roy Mustang, and yours is..."

"Nope McNo-Way." Ed answered sarcastically. Mustang growled in frustration and yanked on the chain again, and Edward gagged as his breathing was cut off and the collar split more skin. He knew there was going to be a thick red line once the collar was taken off. And bruises. There would definately be bruises. The Colonel Held the chain up for a full ten seconds before he released, and Edward's knees almost gave out. Really lucky they didn't, he thought bitterly.

After several moments, Mustang sighed. "It appears you aren't going to tell me you name, no matter what I do." He said thoughtfully.

"Now you're getting it." Edward choked.

"So I suppose I'll have to find someone who will. You look like you've had your fair share of injuries, so I'm sure the Rockbell doctors will know who you are by now."

Edward froze. If Mustang found out he was connected to the Rockbells, that would put them in immediate danger. He had to tread carefully now, he realised. The fate of Aunty and Uncle Rockbell could very well rest in his hands right now. If anything happened to them because of him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. And if anything happened to them, he'd never be able to face Winry again. Poor Winry, Ed thought. She's so young, if Aunty or Uncle were to die...he shuddered at the thought.

"Something wrong kid?" Mustang asked mockingly. "Do you know the Rockbells?

"Not at all." Ed said, trying to sound the same as before. But Colonel Mustang simply smiled at his answer.

"When I mentioned them, you suddenly became very tense. You shuddered, and you hesitated before answering. And when you did, your voice was guarded, unlike before. I'd say, from that reaction, that you are quite close to the Rockbells. Maybe I should pay them a visit and see?"


	2. Chapter Two: The Doctors Rockbell

Mustang could tell the kid knew the Rockbells, and after what he'd just said, the kid was frozen, speechless, and he knew he'd struck a nerve. At least now he finally had made some small form of progress. He'd hated using physical pain as a means to try to elicate information, especially from a sixteen year old boy, but sometimes, he knew, sometimes you had to push your own limits to push someone elses. Not that it had worked anyway, but it had made him realise the evident injuries of the boy, such as the automail arm and the thin stitches that ran across his face, that he would have visited the doctors on more than one occasion.

"Yes," He muttered, "Yes I think I will pay them a visit. You wait here, kid." And then he turned and left, heading for the building that was known warwide as the Rockbell Hospital.

The Rockbells knew that when Colonel Roy Mustang asked them about a boy with blonde hair and golden eyes, it would be best to play dumb. Everyone knew that Edward's allegiance lay with the Ishvalans, so it would be a bad move to give the Amestrian Military any knowledge of their Most Wanted. So they pretended they hadn't heard of him.

"Mr and Mrs Rockbell, I can't imagine you haven't heard of him. News of the Amestrian boy fighting for the Ishvalans traveled pretty quickly once he arrived." He seemed to contemplate something, then frowned, deeply. "In fact...he arrived the same time as the two of you. Can you think of any reason for this?"

"I'm afraid nothing comes to mind, sir." Sara's husband said.

The Military Colonel frowned again and looked around the building, where cots full of Amestrians and Ishvalans alike were bedded, each with one injury or another. "Tell me," He said, "Why do you help the Ishvalans when they are the enemy?"

It was Sara who answered this time. "We care little about the race of our patients. An injured Ishvalan, a wounded Amestrian, it's all the same to us. We help those who need help."

"And you've never helped the boy matching my description? Because he's covered in quite a few scrapes, and then there's his automail arm. I know your mother is quite an automail engineer." He said, turning to look at Sara's husband once more.

"I'm sure my mother is not the only automail engineer in Amestris." He answered cooly.

"I'm sure she's not. Tell me, does your mother take much interest in the happenings of this war?" Mustang asked.

"No...she doesn't. Why?"

"No matter, I was just...conteemplating something. I'll leave now, but be sure to inform the Military of you...remember anything...about this boy. Thank you." And then Mustang left, grinning, because he knew that these people had something to do with the boy, and he was going to grill the automail engineer about what she knew.

Subtley, of course.

Basque Grand gave him a month's leave of absence from the war to investigate further, and he himself took charge of the traitor boy. Mustang had small worries about how the boy would be treated in Brigadier General Grand's care, but that was no longer his concern; the boy was a traitor to his country, and deserved whatever he got.

It took him less than two weeks to arrive in the Rockbell's hometown of Resembool, where he made easy contact with Pinako Rockbell and her young granddaughter, Winry. They invited him in for tea, and he accepted gladly. It would be a relief to eat some actual food instead of the war-rations he'd been living off recently.

"So, Mister Mustang, what is it you would like to know?"

"I'm investigating a boy, around sixteen, with blonde hair and golden eyes, and I wondered if you knew anything about him?"

"Golden eyes and hair, huh? That sounds like Ed. Why do you want to know about him?" The old woman asked.

Mustang cheered internally. He had been right, the Rockbells did have a connection to his prisoner. "He's been captured by the enemy and I want to know more about him so that I can help him." He lied smoothley, hoping that the old woman wouldn't call his bluff. "I'd like to know about his family, history, things like that. Perhaps I could find a useful piece of information that could help bargain his release."

Pinako frowned, nodding thoughtfully. "Oh, all right." She muttered. "Ed...Ed's had a hard life. Seven years ago his mother died in the Influenza Epidemic, and four years later, Ed's younger brother, Alphonse, died of depression. It was hard on those boys, when their mother died. Their father, the old bastard, used to be a drinking pal of mine, had abandoned them when Alphonse was barely more than a toddler, and Edward was old enough to understand he wasn't coming back.

"So when sweet Trisha died, I took the Elric boys in. It was crowed, what with my son and his wife still here, and then when Winry was born six years ago, it became even more crowded. Then that damned war with the Ishvalans broke out, and my son and his wife went to help the injured. Good people, my son and his wife, they don't care who they help, they just help them. And Edward, who had never liked the goings on in Ishaval and your damn military, went to help fight."

"And what about his automail arm?" Mustang asked. "How did that happen?"

"Edward lost his arm a little before young Alphonse died. He'd gotten too close to a wolf den, and the mother wasn't happy. She went for his throat but he turned to the side at the last second and tore off his arm instead. Remember, he was ten at the time, so there wasn't much arm for the wolf to rip off. But that boy...too much pride. He refused to be an invalid, so after the stump was amputated he made me outfit him with automail. After that his younger brother died, and Edward fell into despair. I think when Ishval started, I think, the fact that he had the chance to help people, people who were being slaughtered for know good damn reason, I think that's what brought him back." Pinako sighed.

"So he went to Ishval..." Mustang pretended to question, "To help Amestris, or to help the Ishvalans?"

"Like I said, he hated the Military's occupation in Ishval. He went out to see if he could lend those poor Ishvalans a...hand..." Pinako's eyes widened and hardened as she realised she'd given away too much. "You crafty devil..." She muttered. "Get out! Get out of my house! And if you dare hurt Edward I'll kill you, you bastard! Now get out!" She grabbed up the closest thing in her reach, which happened to be a wrench, and threw it at him.

Mustang hurried out, just managing to dodge the flying wrench, and returned to his horse and rode off, back to the war. He had some useful information now, and he planned to use it. "Edward Elric, hmm?" He muttered to himself. "Well, Edward Elric, you're about to regret turning traitor."

During the month that Mustang character was away, Edward was treated severely under Brigadier General Basque Grand's care. By now, news that he had been captured had swelled to the Ishvalans, and without the encouragement he always provided them, they were beginning to lose the battle. Edward knew they were because his captor took every oppertunity to tell him so. Edward never replied to the taunts, and each time he refused to do so he recieved either s brutal punch to the face, chest, stomach, or a harsh tug of the chain.

He was trapped the exact same way as when he had been that damn Colonel's prisoner, but, the difference was that Grand was cruel as well as gloatious. Edward's chain was still attatched to a ring high on the wall, but it was attatched tighter, so that every breath Edward took resulted in the torturous metal collar digging into his throat even more painfully, and every minute that passed there was no respite from the pain the collar caused.

Before now, he had always known that prisoners of war were treated with cruelty, but now, he knew that traitors were treated worse. By law, prisoners of war were to be fed twice daily, and given water thrice daily, and he knew for a fact that the Ishvalan prisoners fell under the jurisdiction of a man by the name of Maes Hughes, who had a reputation for being kind and considerate. An escaped prisoner had once told Edward that Hughes often slipped the prisoners some extra bread, even. But Edward was a special case. He wasn't your average prisoner of war, he was a traitor, and traitors recieved special treatment.

Traitors were fed a single slice of bread once daily and a few small sips of water once daily. Traitors were practically hung from the walls by chains and collars and traitors were beaten bloody by their imprisoners. Traitors held no kidness from others, and traitors were nothing but scum under a soldier's foot.

Edward was brought back to the present when the loathsome Basque Grand entered the small hut and grinned at him. He walked over solowly, and leaned down to whisper in Ed's ear. "They're losing."

Edward snarled at him and was rewarded with a cruel lift of the chain. He couldn't breath and his vision went blurry. The metal collar dug into his throat and choked his as he was lifted high off his feet, so that he was face-to-face with a straightstanding Grand. "You're pathetic Ishvalan friends are dying now without you, little traitor brat! They'll all be dead soon." Edward spat at him and he dropped the chain, so that Edward fell to the ground, lost his footing, and was choking again on the collar, which dug into his tender flesh like a knife.

Grand laughed and hauled him by the chain to his feet, where he swayed, but somehow managed to stay balanced. The cruel Brigadier General left him then, his taunting and torture finished for the time being, and Edward was left standing, again, exausted and bleeding.


	3. Chapter Three: Burning

Throughout the next week Edward actually had more visiters, other than Brigadier General Grand. Various other Military men -whom Edward couldn't be bothered learning their names-, came in with new ideas as to how to get Edward to spill information about Ishvalan tactics. Some of them beat him up, some tried to coke it out of him, and one man, one Edward would never forget, who knew plenty about the human anotmy and it's weak points, decided it would be fun to stab thin knives in the extremely painfull, but non vital points. It had taken every ounce of courage he had not to scream, but still, a few slipped out.

But not once did he give in and tell them anything. His loyalty to the Ishvalans ran far deeper than they could get to.

So he took the pain. The punches, the kicks, the choking and the stabbing. He took all of it with as much pride as he could muster. He took it all because he would not turn his back on the people that needed help more than he did. When he took the time to think about it, an entire race of human beings was more important than the life of one individual boy. As one mister Frank Archer slid another knife into his flesh arm, he screamed and wondered briefly when that damn Mustang character would be back. He hated the entirte military with a passion, but at least that guy didn't torture him in a vain attempt to get information.

Speaking of Mustang, here he is, Ed thought bitterly as the Colonel entered the hut, freezing in place as he caught sight of Ed, stripped down to his underwear and covered in bruises, breaks and bloody knife wounds. Ed grinned manically at him. "You took your time, Colonel." He said. "You're the Flame Alchemist, aren't you, judging by those transmutation circles on your gloves. So I'm presuming your particular torture method for me will be fire. Go ahead. Burn me, have fun! But your not gonna get squat out of me." Ed started laughing for some odd reason.

"I had no intention of torturing you...Edward Elric."

Ed stopped laughing.

"What did you say?" He whispered.

"Yes, Edward, I know who you are. I know your father abandoned you when you were five, I know you were ten when your mother died, and I know your younger brother Alphonse died four years after that, from depression. A mother wolf ripped your arm to shreds when you got too close to her den and so you asked your adopted Grandmother to make you an automail arm. I know you've always detested our occupation here in Ishval so when the fighting broke out, you came here with the Rockbell doctors to help the Ishvalans in their war."

The silence that followed was agonising. Edward was too stunned for speech. He couldn't understand how that bastard had come to know his whole life story, even if half of it was fake. The Rockbell Doctors certainly hadn't told them so who...? And then it hit him in the face like a blast of ice cold air that left him chilled and furious.

"You...you went to the Rockbell's hometown, didn't you?" He whispered.

Colonel Mustang nodded the affirmative.

"You..." Edward's voice was trembling with rage, and he couldn't control his fury any longer. "You...you BASTARD!" He screamed at him. "HOW DARE YOU!" He snarled, vicious and animalistic, a raw sound sent chills down Roy Mustang's spine.

But he smiled anyway. "Thanks, Edward. You just confirmed to me that the old crone wasn't lying to me." If looks could kill, the daggerd glare Edward sent his way would have sliced him to pieces a thousand times over, and then stomped him into the ground, just for good measure. Edward was trembling all over with rage, and Mustang smiled to himself.

But then he remembered that Frank Archer was still there, almost blending into the wall he had slipped to, and his smile broke. He hated Archer with a passion. The man was ghostly pale, like a vampire, and he had eyes as cold and calculating as a snakes, and the slow, purring voice to match it. He was sadistic and he loved war - a love that could rival that of Solf J. Kimblee. Another man Mustang hated.

What are you doing here, Lieutenant Colonel Archer?" He asked, not bothering to keep the disdain out of his voice.

Archer raised the blooding knife he was holding to his lips and ran the side of the blade over his tongue, swallowing the crimson blood. Roy suppressed a shudder. "Just...leaving." Archer purred, and slinked out of the hut, leaving Mustang alone with Brigadier General Grand.

And Edward.

"I trust your endevour was succesful?" Grand asked, unnecessarily.

"It was, sir." He replied.

"Good, but we still need to worm the Ishvalans battle tactics out of him. We already know for a fact he has them, we just need him to tell us." Grand said.

"And how do we do that, sir?" Mustang asked hesitantly, fearing he already knew the answer.

"There's no better motivator than torture to make a man spill his secrets." The Brigadier General said, trying to keep himself from smiling at the idea but failing miserably. "Perhaps you could fulfill the boy's demand and burn him, aye, Flame?"

Mustang looked back at the kid, and the reality crashed down on him like a brick that he was a kid! That he had left a kid here to be tortured by Brigadier General Grand and Lieutenant Colonel Archer and God knows how many others and that he was being ordered to burn a kid! This wasn't right! Something was seriously not right here. He knew the Brigadier General was a man who cared little who his victim was, but...but a kid! His next words came out husky and shaky.

"You want me to burn a child?" He rasped.

"This boy is a traitor to our country, Colonel. He needs to be interrogated and previous methods have not worked. Think, Colonel, he can always heal, and besides, we need the Ishvalan battle tactics if we're going to smite them once and for all!" Grand said.

"But...a child! He's just a child!"

"He is in league with our enemy, making him our enemy. Would you think twice about burning an Ishvalan man for information?"

"A man can handle the pain." Mustang said through gritted teeth. "But he is just a child!"

"Colonel Mustang I am ordering you, that for the sake of battle information, to burn this traitor. Do not burn him fatally, just cause him enough pain to make him tell his secrets."

"Good luck with that. I have a very high pain threshold." Edward cut in, but the two men ignored him, momentarily.

"But...I can't burn a child..." Mustang whispered.

"You will follow your orders Mustang."

Mustang hung his head, and took slow, dragged steps to the child. He raised his head and looked the boy in the eyes. Despite his boasting, the boy failed to keep the fear out of his eyes as Mustang raised his right hand and pressed his thumb and middle finger together.

As he did, time seemed to stand still. Edward could hear his heart hammering in his chest, his blood pounding in his ears and the wrenching in his gut. Look on the bright side, his sarcastic ass of a subconcious whispered to him, maybe it'll sear your wounds closed. Edward knew he would never give up the Ishvalan tactics, no matter how much they tortured him, so he hoped his subconcious was right and that he'd at least get that much out of it.

That one, single moment seemed to drag out for all eternity, even though it was really only a few seconds. Every millisecond that went by Edward's heart pounded faster and faster until it felt like it might just burst and then the moment was over with that single snap and he was burning.

He couldn't help but scream as the fire shot from Mustang's fingertips and spread out across his abdomen, burning his flesh and even searing closed the knife wounds there. The physical pain was like absolutely nothing he had ever felt before, it was excruciating, even more than when his arm had been ripped away from his very being when the Truth took it as payment for the alchemical secrets he had shown him.

He fought to keep his legs standing or else the tight collar would choke him. A few seconds of agonising pain later and the burning stopped, Edward gasping for breath and gritting his teeth in pain. He hadn't realised he was hanging his head until he raised it to look Mustang deep in the eyes. They were black, like his hair, but, Ed had to admit, they didn't look cruel. One glance and he could tell Mustang really did not want to be doing this, but he was a dog of the military; he had no choice. At that moment Ed bothed cursed the man for his weak submission and felt sympathy for him.

That sympathy was long lasting when Mustang met his gaze, and mouthed to him, 'I'm so sorry.' Not that he neaded to shape the words, Ed could tell from the look in his eyes that he was. Despite the burning pain in his abdomen, Ed tried to let his eyes show the sympathy he felt for the Flame Alchemist in that moment, but he wasn't all too sure he'd succeed when Mustang screwed his eyes shut, snapped his fingers again, and this time it was Ed's legs burning.

He couldn't keep them up, now, and he buckled, his collar yanking harshly as he dropped, and the burning stopped and the choking began. He no longer had the strength to get to his feet, and he was paying dearly for it. Every second that went by the collar dug into his throat, still cutting off the breathing, and the strain on his neck was such that he truly thought it would snap and he would die.

Right when he felt it cracking, his blurry vision saw the blue uniform in front of him move and suddenly he was being hoisted to his feet and there was a snap and he flinched but Mustang had burned the chain holding him and it broke and he fell to the ground, finally able to breathe.

His choked breaths came out more as wracking coughs as he felt Mustang lean him against the wall. He vaguley heard the barking of Brigadier General Grand's voice but was unable to hear what he said as exaustion from having a full three weeks of constant pain and not an ounce of sleep took over, and then his conciousness was lost and he blacked out.


	4. Chapter Four: The Fuhrer Of Amestris

Edward woke slowly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. His entire bodywas alight with pain from being burned, but what hurt most was his neck, where the collar was still pinching tightly into his skin. He focused on that pain in order to bring his senses back up, because they felt oddly dulled. It worked, and he began to notice the sounds around him. There was a weird rumbling sound, and every now and then something bumped and he lost his balance. There were also two people talking. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he recognised one of the voices as Colonel Roy Mustang. The other voice was new to him.

He groaned as his head pounded, and the voices ceased. He realised he was propped up on an uncomfortable seat, and then it occured to him he was in a car. His hand was shackled and someone tugged on the chain, oulling his wrist forward, the shackle pinching the skin slightly. He winced and realised he was blindfolded, the cloth tugged at his hair when he turned his head. He didn't say anything. He could tell he wasn't gagged, but he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing he was confused about what was happening.

"You awake kid?" He heard Mustang ask. He turned his head slightly to Mustang's general direction, but remained silent.

"He asked you a question!" The other voice growled, and the collar around his neck was tugged violently, and Ed felt another cut open up and leak blood slowly. Ed could tell now thaat the other voice was male, and it had a kind of oily tone to it, simelar to that Archer guy who'd been sticking knives into him. But it wasn't Archer, he knew that much. He wondered briefly who it could be before Mustamg asnwered his question for him.

"Lieutenant Colonel Kimblee, that was unnessecary." He said.

"Colonel Mustang." The voice that belonged to Kimblee purred. "He needs to be fully responsive when he meets the Fuhrer, so I'm just making sure he knows that."

At mention of the Fuhrer, Edward stiffend. He hated the military right down to the core of his being, so, by extension, he despised the man who led them. But now...now he was going to meet him? Edward couldn't think of anything worse than a traitor to his county being sent directly to that country's leader. He suppressed a shudder and forced himself to keep a poker face, but he was pretty certain he was failing spectacularly. He took in a long, silent breath, and tried to think of a way to get out.

He knew that Kimblee and Mustang were both in the back of the car with him, so there must be someone up front driving. Maybe if he could cause enough commotion in the back, the driver would pull over, and then he could jump out and make a break for it. But there were exactly four obvious flaws in that plan. One; he was blindfolded. Even if he did manage to get out, he'd probably run right into a tree or something. Two; he couldn't transmute without his automail arm, so it would be difficult to cause commotion in the first place. Three; Mustang would probably burn him for trying to escape. And lastly, four; he had absolutely no idea what Kimblee was capable of. He knew he was one of the more famous State Alchemists, and that'd he'd caused a lot of damage in Ishval -he'd even been responsible for the death of one of his Ishvalan friend's brother and parents- but he didn't know what exactly Kimblee's special alchemy talent was. And when you didn't know an alchemist's speciality, it was dangerous to mess with them, especially unarmed.

So it looked like, for the time being, escaping was out of the question. Before he'd gone to Ishval, Edward was a risk taker, he didn't really think clearly once he was mad, and he would explode at the tiniest of taunts. But Ishval had taught him he couldn't afford to be like that. He had learned to be level-headed. To think things through, and to know when he was beaten and when he had a fighting chance. Right now, he was beaten. But that didn't mean there wouldn't be a fighting chance later on. He would bide his time, and when the oppertunity arose, he would take it. But for now, he might as well enjoy not being on his feet.

He fidgeted a little bit and settled for a more comfortable position in the seat, and leaned his head back. Kimblee yanked again on his collar, but he ignored it. He'd gotten used to the pain anyway. Kimblee tugged again and again and then as Edward continued to ignore him he yanked hard and Edward was pulled forward and he fell to the floor at Kimblee's feet, struggling to balance his body weight on one arm. "Tell me, Elric." Kimblee purred.

"Your family is all dead, correct?" Edward ignored his taunts, clenching his fist.

"Kimblee." Mustang warned.

"You live with the Rockbells now, don't you? With that Pinako lady and her granddaughter. It's a real shame that little girl is an orphan now, isn't it?"

"What did you say?" Edward growled before he could stop himself. Aunty and Uncle Rockbell...he couldn't possibly mean...no, that couldn't be! No, it just wasn't possible, they were doctors, they helped people!

"Oh? Didn't you know? A certain alchemist blew up their hospital, and they just...happened to be inside."

"Kimblee!"

Edward was in shock. That wasn't possible. How could anyone do that to them? They were doctors! They helped people! How could they die? How could someone kill them? No, no, no! He felt his heart stop and clench inside his chest, and it was like it was like it was caught in an ever-tightening vice! His breaths came in gasps and his brain lost all coherent thoughts except one. They're dead. Because of me. They're dead because of me.

Tears filled his eyes and leaked down his face through the cloth as the realisation hit him. He sat up on the floor and hung his head, allowing the tears to spill, not even bothering to try and hide them. But how could they be dead? His mind kept asking. How is it they're dead? He's lying. He has to be lying. He has to be!

"You're lying." He whispered. His voice was tight and husky, and he wasn't sure if they'd even heard him.

"I'm not lying." Kimblee said, and Ed could hear the grin. He could vaguley hear Mustang yelling at Kimblee, but his brain was shutting down now. The pain was too much to bear. Uncle and Aunty Rockbell were dead because of him. Granny Pinako didn't have a son anymore because of him. Poor little Winry had no parents because of him! She was six years old and she didn't have any parents because of him! And that was his last thought before the darkness swept over him and he embraced it gladly, any chance to be free of this pain, even if just for a little while.

His respite from the pain was broken an hour later when their car arrived at Central Command. The harsh yanking of the chain brought him back to cruel reality, and he forced himself not to collapse again, he needed to at least look strong when he came eye-to-eye with the Fuhrer. His blindfold was removed by Mustang and he wiped all traces of tears from his face with his hand. And then he was led through to the building and through it to the office of the Fuhrer.

He took a lot of notice of the turns and doorways of the corridors they walked through. The only thing he ignored completely was the glares of utter disgust every single officer of the military shot him as he walked past. All except one. She was a girl with cropped short blonde hair with a slight bang similar to Winry's and chocolate brown eyes. She had various guns holstered around her uniform, and slung over her shoulder was a military issued rifle.

As they passed her, she saluted to Colonel Mustang, promptly ignored Kimblee, and then turned her gaze to Ed. He expected her to look at him with the same hatred and disgust as was the norm so far, but he was shocked when he recieved the exact opposite.

She looked at him with pity.

They turned when they reached her -or, more likely, the door she was posted at- and walked through. The room was gigantic, with a massive table that could probably seat at least thirty people. They passed it and went directly to the large desk stationed in front of the back wall, which was less of a wall than a window. In that chair, sat the Fuhrer, and Edward couldn't suppress this shudder as he wondered what the Fuhrer was going to do to him.

He was both shocked and terrified when the Fuhrer dismissed both Mustang and Kimblee, leaving Edward alone with him. The chains were removed from both his shackle and the collar and Mustang carried them out with him. Edward was vulnerable now to whatever the Fuhrer decided to do, and they both knew it. Edward forced himself to remain completely and utterly still when the Fuhrer stood up and strode towards him. He was at east two or three feet taller than he was, and when he spoke his voice was smooth but also a little tight.

"My name is Fuhrer King Bradley. I understand your name is Edward Elric."

Ed nodded.

"Why did you decide to turn traitor to this country? And I want the truth, Mr Elric."

Edward hesitated a moment before he spoke, choosing his words carefully. "What you and your military are doing in Ishval is wrong. You're slaughtering an entire race of people for no good reason, and if they can't defend themselves, someone should." He said at last.

"And you decided that someone would be you?"

"That's right."

"Hmm." Bradley muttered, taking a moment to think. "Now, tell me about how you lost your arm, Elric."

"A wolf tore it off when I was ten." He said automatically, having spent many years rehersing it.

"Now, Elric, we both know you're lying to me. Now tell me the truth."

Edward froze, saying absolutely nothing. Being a traitor was bad enough, he probably already had a one-way ticket to the fireing squad, but if the Fuhrer found out he'd tried Human Transmutation, he'd be sent to the hanging post instead. And if it was a choice between instant death or a slow, painful one, he'd take instant, thank you very much.

"What did you see on the other side of the Gate, Edward? How much knowledge did the Truth give you?"


	5. Chapter Five: The Homunculi

The whole world stood suddenly still as Edward processed what he'd just heard. It took him a moment, and when the words finally sunk in his entire body began involuntarily trembling. His eyes went wide with fear and his breathing became heavy and uneven. He became aware of a sudden burning pain in his auto-mail port and without thinking, tried to cover it with his left hand. The movement was made useless by the fact that the prisoner-issue shirt he was wearing was sleeveless. The silence carried out and the pain from the collar on his neck steadily became worse until his body could no longer take it. He hissed and tried stupidly to rip it off but only succeeded in cutting open a small would that bled steadily down the inside of the collar, down onto his shoulder and over the auto-mail port, forcing a pained yelp out of him and bringing unwelcome tears to his eyes.

He was vaguely aware of Fuhrer Bradley watching curiously, but he paid no attention to him for the moment as he tried to bring his pain under control. Think of something happy, he told himself but he had nothing happy in the world anymore to think about. Mum was dead, Alphonse was dead, Aunty and Uncle Rockbell were dead, Granny Pinako was now without a son and a daughter-in-law, and poor little Winry was officially an orphan. He would be an orphan, too, if it weren't for...that bastard. And thinking about him was hardly a happy thought. That bastard had abandoned him and his brother and his mother, and if he hadn't been gone, Mum wouldn't have died, and neither would Alphonse. When he thought about it -and think about it he did, now, it made a wonderful distraction- every bad thing that had happened in his life so far, save Aunty and Uncle dying, was completely and utterly his fault!

It's all his fault! All his fault! All his fault! He recited, over and over again, to keep himself from thinking about the blinding pain radiating from all over his body, most specifically his collard neck and his auto-mail port.

His thoughts were suddenly broken.

"No matter." Fuhrer Bradley suddenly said. "I am already aware that the Truth took your arm. And rumors and reports of how you perform alchemy have reached my ears many times. I was merely humoring you. So, now, what to do with you?"

Edward remained silent, completely oblivious to an acceptable response. It didn't seem to bother the Fuhrer much, though. He continued talking, but for some reason at that moment Ed's head began to buzz, and he didn't catch a single word of it. He was only broken out of his mental blank roughly ten minutes later at the opening and shutting of the door. His head snapped around, and he saw a man with dirty blonde hair cropped short, in a military uniform, and, judging by the stars on it, he was a 2nd Lieutenant. His eyes were blue and cold. Fuhrer Bradley said something to him that Ed didn't hear, and then what the man did next nearly cause Ed's heart to fail.

He started crackling with a kind of red energy, and then his appearance began to change abruptly. No longer was his hair dirty blonde and short, but long, black, and it reminded Ed oddly of the branches of a palm tree. He no longer wore a military uniform, but a black sleeveless crop top, tight shorts with folds of fabric loose at the front and back, like a skirt, but slit on the side of the thighs, and gathered at the waistband. He no longer had any shoes, but long foot pieces that could be socks, except that it left the toes and the heel bare. He wore a headband with three interconnected red dots at the front, but Edward found he was most terrified by the change in the eyes. No longer were they blue, but a violent shade of purple, and the pupils were slit eerily identical to a cats'. They were still -if not even more so-, cold and cruel looking.

"So this is the traitorous pipsqueak?" He laughed. His voice was rough and cruel, like his eyes.

"Who are you calling so short that you need a magnifying glass just to see him on a white backdrop?" Ed yelled, clenching his fist and momentarily forgetting his pain.

"Whoa," the man said, grinning maliciously, "feisty. I like this one, Wrath."

Ed looked around so see who the man had identified as 'Wrath', but the only other person in the room with them was Bradley.

"That's good, Envy." Bradley said from behind Ed, making him jump, "Because he's yours to look after from this point on."

"Yippee." The man apparently known as Envy chirped. He made to move towards Ed, putting his left leg first, and that's when Ed saw it. The tattoo of the Ouroboras. He gasped and took two long strides backwards. He'd read about that tattoo as a child, while he'd been researching human alchemy. That tattoo symbolized that that man was a Homunculus, an artificially created human! They didn't have souls, they were beings whose entire personality was based on one of the seven deadly sins. Greed, Gluttony, Lust, Sloth, Pride, Wrath and...Envy.

"But Envy." Fuhrer Bradley said warningly.

"Yes, Wrath?" Envy said, and Ed felt like he might just vomit when he realized Envy was talking directly to Fuhrer King Bradley, which meant...it meant that the ruler of the entire country wasn't even a human.

"Father needs him alive. Be as cruel as you wish, but do not kill him! Now take him to Father." Wrath said.

Envy agreed and transformed back into the dirty blonde he had been before, and then he grabbed a chain that had been left on the table -apparently Mustang hadn't taken them both out after all- and clipped it to Ed's collar. Ed tried to stay rooted to the spot, but the Homunculus was stronger than him, especially in his weakened state, and he pushed him along, out into the hallway. They passed the blonde woman with all the guns, and he looked at her desperate as Envy dragged him along, but she didn't seem to understand his pleas, or, if she did, she didn't care. He was led to a hidden elevator in the east of the building, and Envy shoved him roughly inside. He pushed the lower of the only two buttons on the control, and the elevator began to descend, while his fear skyrocketed. Where the hell was this bastard taking him? And who the hell was this 'Father' guy?

He tried to control his trembling as the elevator went lower and lower. And just when it felt like it was going to go right through the Earth's center and pop out the other side, it stopped, and Envy tugged on the chain, and Ed no longer had any choice but to follow willingly. Envy led him through various dark, cold, clammy passageways, and Ed did his best to ignore the growling of what were obviously chimeras above a grating a few meters above his head. Finally, they came out into a large room filled with twisting, clustered grey pipes, and in the center of the room there was what appeared to be a huge concrete chemistry set, inflated to ten times it's regular size. At the front of it sat a huge throne, and in that throne was a man. As they got closer, lifted his head and Ed saw his face...

And stopped dead in his tracks.

It couldn't...it couldn't possibly be him...how could it? He had abandoned Ed and his family years ago, how could he possibly turn up here? How was it possible? It just couldn't be! Edward's head swam with possibilities and Envy musn't have liked it because he shoved Ed hard and Ed tripped on a tiny little baby pipe and fell to his knees, still looking at the man on the throne, who couldn't be anyone other than 'Father'.

"What the hell?" He whispered, partly to himself. "How is it -Hohenheim?"

The man stood up and strode towards him. Ed didn't bother trying to get away, his mind was too numb and he didn't think he would be able to move his legs at all. The man who looked exactly like Hohenheim, Edward's bastard father, stopped in front of him, and Ed looked at the floor, but the action was in vein, because Hohenheim grabbed his chin and pulled it up, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

"Hello, Hohenheim." Edward snarled.

"Hohenheim?" The man who was apparently not Hohenheim said. He played the name on his tongue several times, pronouncing it slowly, and then finally Ed could see the recognition spark in his eyes and he continued. "Wait a moment, do you mean Van Hohenheim?" Ed nodded. "What is your relation to Van Hohenheim exactly? How do you know him?" This man sounded almost excited now.

"He's my father." Edward growled.

"Your father!" The man beamed. "I had no idea he had children! This is wonderful! A living son of Van Hohenheim, this is incredible! But why is your name Elric then?"

"Elric was my mother's name!" Edward shouted.

The man frowned and nodded to himself, and then -finally!- dropped Ed's chin and told Envy to take Edward to his cell. Envy said "Yes, Father!" and picked Edward up -well, more like dragged him up by the collar- and led him out of the giant room, and down several more passageways, and into a holding cell, where Ed's collar was loosened slightly -Father's orders- and chained to the wall. In the cell was a bed, fitted with several warm-looking blankets, a table and two chairs, and, chained to each side of the door, two dog-looking chimeras, most likely as guards, and in the corner, partially hidden behind a rail of curtains, a toilet.

Envy left and returned a few minutes later with a plate full of food. He set it down on the table and took a step back.

Edward couldn't help it. He had been starved for almost a month now, and the plate of food was choc-a-block full with a huge steak, mashed potato with shredded cheese, pasta and various vegetables. He leaped to it and didn't even bother with the knife and fork Envy had set down next to it, he just picked up the giant steak and started biting off massive chunks, swallowing them half-chewed and taking another bite. The steak was cooked medium-rare, not Ed's favourite, but in his present state he wouldn't have cared if it was raw. When he'd chewed off every morsel of the steak from it's bone, he thoughtlessly picked up the fork and started shoving forkfuls of pasta and vegetable and potato into his mouth.

The helping of food had been huge, but he had eaten the whole lot within a few minutes, barely noticing Envy smirking at him until he'd spoken. "Hungry little pipsqueak, aren't you?" Ed would have blown a fuse and screamed something at him, except he was still chewing the last bits of broccoli.

He stood up and went to the toilet, thankful for the curtains, and when he was done he collapsed onto the bed. Envy smirked and sat at the end, and Ed stood up and walked away as far as his chain would allow, trying to get his body as far away from the Homunculus as possible.

Envy grinned even wider -if that was even possible- and walked confidently over to where Ed was pressed into a corner. He pushed Ed farther back and leaned on him, and alarm bells clanged away loudly in Ed's head. "G-get away from me!" He spluttered.

"Come on, pipsqueak, don't be so mean. I just wanna be your friend is all." Envy said.

"Get. Away. From. Me!" Ed repeated through clenched teeth.

Envy snarled and lifted Ed up by his shirt, walked over to the bed and slammed him down on it. Ed tried to curl up but before he could Envy sat on his waist and leaned down, until their faces were inches apart. Ed's heart raced in his chest as he struggled to get out from under him, but he was weak after weeks of starvation and torture. Envy leaned farther down and Ed scrunched up his eyes. Envy pecked him on the forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, pipsqueak." And then he left the room, leaving a terrified Edward alone with his terrified thoughts.

Tricked you! Hahahaha you thought for a second there we were gonna see some yaoi, didn't you? Admit it!


	6. Chapter Six: An Orphan's Pain

"...And as we celebrate the lives of Urey and Sara Rockbell, two loving, caring people, I ask us all to take a minute of silence, to recall your fondest memories of them, so that we may lay them to rest with the happiest thoughts possible."

The Priest fell silent, and the mourners did the same. All except one, one little girl, who could not keep her strangled sobs quiet. Nobody blamed or resented her for this. How could they? When, after all, the small six year old had lost almost everything in the shortest time possible. How could they possibly be mad at her for crying at her own parent's funeral? The poor little girl, though, sh did her best to try and think of happy memories of her mum and dad, like the priest had said, but all she could think of was how her heart had wrenched when that soldier man had told them her mummy and daddy were dead. It had been like everything in the world was suddenly gone. She suddenly felt cold, cold and empty, like nothing would ever be right, like all the happiness had drained from the world.

So poor little Winry Rockbell cried on, while her Grandmother rested her shaking hand on her shaking shoulder, tears slipping down her own face. Winry couldn't help but momentarily forget that her best friend had been captured for fighting on the 'wrong side'. Her grief was too great that that didn't seem to matter at the moment. The silent minute went on for hours it seemed, and when the silence broke with the sound of quiet music, being played by a small group of violinists nearby, she broke down and sobbed into Granny's shirt, as her mummy and daddy were lowered into their graves.

If it hadn't before, the realization that she would never see them again hit her, and it felt like the entire world was crashing down upon her, because she would never see mummy's smile, or hear daddy's laugh, and she would never hug or kiss them and she would never eat with them or be able to talk to them and it was all the military's fault! Little Winry Rockbell felt a sudden burning hatred for the military who caused her parent's death, something she would hold for the rest of her life.

After the burying of her parents, the mourners at the graveyard slowly trickled away, until Granny and Winry were the only two there. The wind began to pick up and the temperature dropped rapidly, and it was only when Granny noticed Winry shivering that they slowly made their way back home. Halfway there, Winry's little child's body could no longer take the stress, and her legs gave out. She collapsed onto the rocky road, scraping her knee, but she didn't feel it. She could only feel loss. Granny carried her the rest of the way home, and because neither of them felt like eating, they went to bed. But Winry couldn't sleep. She kept tossing and turning, remembering everything she had ever done with her parents from her first memory to her last.

And of everything she would never get to do with them now.

It became too much, the loneliness, so she made her way to Granny's room. She couldn't sleep either, and so she let Winry crawl into bed with her, and she wrapped her arms around the girl and did her best to comfort her. But it wasn't just for Winry's comfort. Winry was now the closest thing she would ever have to a child, now that her own was gone. She pulled her close and rested her head on her shoulder.

Wrapped in her Granny's embrace, Winry felt a little better, and soon she fell into a fitful sleep, full of nightmares she could not awake from. But Pinako Rockbell did not sleep that night. She lay awake, never letting go of her granddaughter, thinking of everything she would gladly do for the girl, now that her own parents could not. Now that her son was gone, she was Winry's only blood family. At that moment, as she lay awake fighting back the pain, she wondered how the hell poor Edward had managed all these years, without any kind of blood family to speak of. And Ed had been so, so young. Winry at least had her, but poor Ed had had no family. The best he'd had was herself, but, Pinako knew, that she would never be able to fully fill the void created by the loss of family members.

Thinking of Ed made her remember suddenly that her son's death wasn't the only piece of news that Goddamned Mustang had brought them. Poor Ed, her adopted son, or as bloody good as, was now in the custody of the Fuhrer himself. Only God knew what would happen to him. How would he be punished for betraying the country? Would he be locked in prison for the rest of his life? Would he be tortured for information about the Ishvalans -not that that would be any use now, the war had finally ended, all these weeks after her son's death-? Or...would he face the firing squad for his crimes? Pinako shuddered to think about what would happen.

The night was lonely, and by morning, the sleepless Pinako had bruises under her red eyes. Winry seemed a little bit better, Pinako thought. Allowing her to sleep with her had done the little girl some good. She didn't feel at all like breakfast, but she knew Winry at least needed to eat. She hadn't had anything since lunch yesterday, and she could hear her stomach rumbling from across the kitchen as she turned on the stove and put some eggs on the boil. Winry didn't seem to be paying attention, though. She had pulled out a book entitled The Beginner's Guide To Building Auto-Mail, and she was poring through it. Pinako thought she would probably just be looking at the words, not really in the state to take them in, but she didn't know that every word Winry read burned itself into her brain.

Winry had heard that there were many, many people in the Ishvalan war who has lost arms, legs, in the battle. There were people out there who wanted to be able to walk on their own two feet, who wanted to be able to handle things themselves, but couldn't. She knew now, in light of everything that had happened, of everything that had gone wrong, what she had to do to help. There was only one thing she knew how to do that would help.

If she learned to master the craft of building Auto-Mail, like Granny, she could help people stand on two feet, help people to handle things themselves. And she knew it didn't matter who. Whether they were Amestrian or Ishvalan, friend or foe, she would help.

Because that's what Mummy and Daddy would do.


	7. Chapter Seven: Blood Red Sin

Damn the weeks go slow down here, Edward thought dully as he waited impatiently for something to happen. He had been down here for exactly three weeks and four days now -he scratched off the days on the wall beside his bed using the chains-, and the most interesting thing that had happened recently was that one of the dog-chimeras bit his hand when he tried to pet it on the head. Envy, of course, had heard the commotion made by the chimera's barking and come running, and had silently bandaged the wound on Ed's hand for him. It was lonely down here, and Ed wished secretly that the Homunculus would make some kind of conversation with him. Ever since that weird incident on his first night here, Envy had not talked to him except to bark orders at him. The weird thing was though, Ed still had no idea what the Homunculus had even been trying to do -he'd just known he didn't want it to happen.

He sighed now as Envy brought him his breakfast -bacon and runny eggs on toast. He ate silently while Envy watched him, and when he was done the black-haired sin left the room. The reason Envy now waited for him to finish before leaving was because Edward had tried -emphasis on tried- to go on a hunger strike right after he had been brought his very first meal, but several familial threats later Edward had given in an eaten his food. For a while it had tasted dull, but now, with nothing else but mealtimes to look forward to, he tried to appreciate the fact that whoever actually cooked for him was pretty damn good. He was tempted to ask Envy who the cook was, but his self-pride wouldn't allow him to be the one to break the silence between them. He still couldn't quite figure out why he wanted to talk to the Homunculus, maybe it was loneliness, or maybe he was just bored.

He wanted to know what was happening on the outside. He knew the war with the Ishvalans was over. He'd actually cried when he found out that all of them had been wiped out. He'd made quite a number of friends among the red-eyed people, and a few months after he had joined them in their fight, they had performed a secret little ceremony, dubbing him as an Ishvalan citizen. No one knew about it, except his fellow Ishvalans. He wondered what the Amestrians would say if they found out one of 'their own' had been made an Ishvalan. They'd probably go off their rocker. So technically, even though not Ishvalan by blood, he could be considered the last Ishvalan left alive. He smiled inwardly at the thought that those bastards would smile at their success in wiping his people out, while all the while there was one right under their noses. Or, rather, their feet.

The day pressed on with thoughts like this, mixed with thoughts of Winry and Granny, and lunch came and went with the same stubborn silence as Ed and Envy did their best to ignore each others existence. Just as Envy was heading for the door Ed collapsed onto his bed, heaving a great sigh, and Envy looked back for a few moments, watching him. Edward's eyes settled on the tattoo on Envy's thigh and Envy stalked out of the room, muttering something that sounded like 'stupid filthy human'. Ed laughed out loud as the door slammed shut, and then fell silent again. Now for a few more hours of boredom before the next mealtime.

He was, however, wrong.

Not five minutes later, Envy returned, looking about as bored as Ed felt. At that point Edward was too surprised to keep silent.

"What's this? Come for a visit have we?" He said sarcastically, returning his gaze to the ceiling above him, trying to count the cracks.

"Cut the crap, human." Envy snapped. Ed sat up and looked at him, doing his best to keep a straight face as a few...inappropriate...curse words came to mind. Envy stared at him, apparently trying to figure out what to do with him.

"Bored, are we?" Edward asked, sarcasm simply dripping from him like a leaking tap. "Well, I wouldn't know what it's like to be bored, you see, so you'll have to explain it to me." He did his very best not to burst into a fit of girly giggles. But apparently Envy didn't find it very funny. He grabbed him by the throat and threw him at the wall, and the impact sent jolts of pain fizzing up and down his spine.

"You'll have to do better than that." He laughed. "I was in a war, remember? I've had a lot worse than this!" Envy obviously believed him, because the next thing he knew, he'd turned his fist into a mallet and was slamming it into his nose, and Ed felt it break as it began to bleed furiously. He laughed again and tried to ignore the shooting pain. Envy took this as a sign to continue, and began slamming punch after punch into Ed's face, and soon later there was blood dripping from at least six different places, including a spot under his right eye. It hurt like hell, but Edward wasn't about to give in and cry like a little baby; if he could survive the torture of General Grand and his buddies, he could survive whatever this Homunculus had to throw at him.

He threw a smart-ass comment at Envy, and was rewarded with a punch to the guts. It went on for a while, until Ed's whole body felt like it was on fire, and realized he was going to have some trouble resisting if this continued. It was one thing to brave torture from humans; it was another thing entirely to brave it from a Homunculus. They were so fast! They could deliver blow after blow after blow in ten different places in a few seconds that would take a human five minutes to accomplish. But still Edward never screamed. He refused to give the Homunculus that satisfaction. When Envy finally left him, bleeding in a corner, he knew he was playing a dangerous game, taunting him. By not screaming, he knew the Homunculus would take it as a challenge to make him do so.

But even he never knew the lengths the Homunculus would go to to do so.

It was exactly three months after the incident. Edward was bored as usual in his little cell, when Envy came to call, without food. Instead, he was dragging what looked like a just dead body with him. Edward tried not to look at the elderly woman. Her eyes and hair were grey and she was bleeding still from her pierced heart. It made him want to vomit that Envy would do that to her, and that he would bring her here.

"Look at her!" Envy hissed when Ed turned away. He forced himself, for some odd reason, to look. And by God did he scream when he realized who she was.

"Granny Pinako!" He screamed, rushing to her dead body. He dropped to his knees and cradled her in his arms and tried to grasp the situation, but his mind did not seem to want to co-operate. His heart clenched tightly in his chest and his vision was blurred by tears streaming down his face. He screamed her name again and again and he was only vaguely aware of Envy laughing and leaving them alone, and suddenly, without thinking a single thing through, he knew what he had to do to fix it.

He used alchemy.

He remembered clearly all the formulas and the Transmutation Circle. He didn't need materials because everything was already in front of him. Maybe it wasn't too late! Maybe her soul was still at the Gate. She clearly hadn't been dead for long! She was still warm and leaking blood! He drew the Circle as fast as humanly possible around her body with her blood and before he knew what he was doing he slammed his one hand down on the Circle.

The same thing as last time glowed gold at first, and then turned purple. He could feel the hands pulling him into the Gate, and he didn't fight them. Just before he went, he could see them around Granny Pinako, and he hoped desperately they were fixing her body and returning her soul. Suddenly the Gate slammed shut and he was facing the Truth once again.

"So," it's eery voice said, "you have returned. You young fool, what is it you want this time?"

"Please!" He pleaded. "My Granny! She hasn't been dead long! Just give her back, please! I haven't seen her in years! All I want is to see her alive! Please!" The Truth grinned at him, and next thing he knew he was being pulled back into the Gate, and vast amounts of information was poring into his head. It was like all the world's knowledge in one giant dose, and it was too much! He couldn't take it! His head felt about to burst, and then he saw it. The truth about Human Transmutation. And his heart fell. It was impossible. It was impossible all along. It could never be done, a dead person could not be brought back to life, it just couldn't happen. He could never bring back Mum, or Alphonse, or Granny. It was all for nothing.

And then the knowledge stopped, and he was back in front of the ghostly white faceless figure again. "Well? Did you find out what you needed to know?"

"It was impossible, right from the start." He whispered, and the Truth nodded. "All I wanted was to be able to hold Mum in my arms again, but it was fruitless. Alphonse paid with his life and me with my arm. This time, I just wanted to see Granny Pinako alive again just one last time, but it could never be possible. I thought that it didn't work with Mum because she'd been dead too long, but I was a fool. Even Granny, who couldn't have been dead for more than a few minutes, couldn't be brought back. All I wanted was to see her, one last time, alive, but I can't even get that much."

"You just wanted to see her alive, did you? Well then, I think I know the toll you shall pay this time, Mr. Edward Elric."

Edward's vision began to dim suddenly, and the last thing he saw before it all went completely black was two golden circles of colour appearing on the Truth's face. He was pulled back into the Gate, he felt the hands grasping him, but he couldn't see them! He began to panic, knowing what he would see when he returned to his cell. He would see the dead, mangled body of what was supposed to be Granny, but instead it would be a black, inhuman thing! He dreaded returning, because after all his sins, he didn't want to see the poor pathetic creature he had created.

He felt his body suddenly slam onto the hard floor of his cell, but everything was black. He couldn't see a thing. The lights must have burst, he thought. He was momentarily glad for this, but then fear began to prickle in his neck. He needed to see. He had to face it eventually. He had to face what he had done, and he needed to see what he had lost. He needed to know. So he stood up, dizzy, and felt around for the light switch, then remembering that it would have blown, because he knew it was on when he'd done the Transmutation.

He decided he would have to wait for Envy to return before he could face his sin.


	8. Chapter Eight: Darkness

It was difficult to judge, but eventually Envy did come back in. The light was still out, so Ed didn't see, but he heard his footsteps, and when he came in and saw what Edward had done, he muttered to himself something that sounded like 'what the hell?'. Ed wasn't worried that Envy could see and he couldn't; Homunculi had extraordinarily magnified senses, so it was obvious why he would see better than Ed.

There was the nagging question of why he hadn't seen the light pour into the room when Envy had opened the door, but the answer to that was simple as well -Ed was in the corner, turned away from what he had done. He didn't see the light because he was facing the wrong way.

He heard Envy walk around the room, apparently taking in to full detail Edward's sin. When he started heading towards Edward, he curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut, wishing himself away from the world, still wondering what the Truth had taken from him this time. He didn't feel any kind of physical pain; maybe his sense of touch had been taken? It didn't sound right, though. Or maybe he'd lost the ability to speak, that would sure explain why he hadn't uttered a single word since he'd done it.

Yeah, that was probably it. He couldn't talk.

Envy grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up into the air, growling. "What did you do?" Ed whimpered, keeping his eyes squeezed firmly shut so he wouldn't have to look into Envy's purple eyes, undoubtedly glowing with rage and fury. "Didn't you know you could have killed yourself? You're in important sacrifice, we can't have you _dead!_ _Look at me!" _Edward reluctantly opened his eyes, and was thankful that Envy hadn't bothered to fix the light. It was still absolutely pitch black, so he didn't have to look at the enraged expression Envy was undoubtedly wearing. He could feel the tears roll down his cheeks, the misery was beginning to set in again.

Envy had killed Granny Pinako to get to him. He had tried to bring her back to life in a spur-of-the-moment decision, and had ultimately killed her again. Winry was all alone now. Not a scrap of family left. He wondered where she was now. Maybe Envy had killed her as well. Edward's entire body went numb at the thought. She was just six, she didn't deserve all this pain. Her mum and dad had died in the war, and now, because of him, her granny was dead as well. She had no blood relations any longer. She was now the last of the Rockbells'. How could Ed have let this happen? He could he have killed the last family he had left? He killed granny, he had ultimately been the reason aunty and uncle Rockbell had died, and now he wasn't even sure if Winry was alive. He knew it had to have been his voice he had lost at the Gate, but he had to at least try to ask.

"Did you kill Winry too?"

He was shocked at the sound of his own voice. It sounded course and harsh and defeated and numb and not like him at all. He sounded like the dead. But what was more surprising was that he could actually talk at all. If it wasn't his voice that had been taken in the trade, then what could it possibly be? Maybe he had lost something internal, like an appendix or a lung. The lost lung might explain why he had felt like he couldn't breathe since he'd come back. Yeah, that was it. If it wasn't his voice it was definitely the lung. Or maybe the appendix.

"Who?" Envy asked, sounding surprised.

"Winry. Granny's granddaughter. The little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. She's six years old. Did you kill her, too, or just Granny?"

Envy apparently had to contemplate this for a moment. "_Ooooooooooh, _you mean that girl. No, she's not dead just yet, I'm afraid. We plan on teaching her alchemy. She's quite a know-it-all in he field of auto-mail, at her age, if she can learn that stuff that quickly, she should take to alchemy like a charm. She'll make a great candidate for sacrifice. However...she was...unwilling...to learn alchemy, so I was forced to kill he precious Granny as punishment." Envy laughed. "Isn't that funny?"

Ed clenched his fists and suddenly wished the light was on so that he could see where his fist was going as he aimed straight for the sound of Envy's voice. Despite the lack of sight, his fist collided with Envy's cheek and Envy dropped him. He fell hard on his butt and was trembling to the core by the time he managed to find his feet. "You mean to tell me..."his voice shook as he tried to make the words come out of his mouth, "That you killed my Granny..._Winry's Granny,_ because she didn't want to learn the abomination that is alchemy?"

"How can you call it an abomination when you're the one who's used it practically your entire life?" Envy laughed.

"Alchemy had ruined so many lives...and look what I just made with it! It's too dark and I can't see it, but I know what I've done to Granny. I've seen it before, when I tried to bring mum back. Alchemy created that. And I swear on my life I'm never gonna use the damn thing again." Edward vowed. And he meant it. The full weight of what he had done to his mother, what he had done to Granny, what had killed Alphonse and Uncle and Aunty Rockbell and what had killed his friends in Ishval, was finally crashing down on him. Alchemy had done all of that, his use of alchemy had killed his family and the world's use of alchemy had killed his people, and he didn't want anything to do with the damn thing ever again.

"Dark?" Envy said.

"Yeah, what about it? That damn alchemy blew the bulb. You should probably consider replacing it." Ed said bitterly, just wanting now, after his epiphany, to lay down and die.

"Pipsqueak, the light is on..."

"_What?"_

"The bulb didn't blow. It's perfectly fine, I don't see what you're..._ooooooh."_ He interrupted himself, apparently coming to the same conclusion that Edward was beginning to see. Or, rather... "I know what's going on." Envy said, his voice laced with smugness. "That's the toll you paid. You can't see. Damn idiot, you're blind as a bat!" He started cackling, and Ed heard him hit the floor, still howling with laughter. Edward, on the other hand, was shaking and trembling again. He dropped to his knees, his one hand in front of -he assumed- his eyes, trying desperately to see it. Staring unblinkingly, as if if he stared hard and long enough, he would magically see his hand.

But even as he continued to lie to himself, to convince himself that Envy was lying and that the light really was out, he knew that he had paid the toll with his sight. _All I wanted was to see her, one last time, alive. _What a fool he had been. The Truth was a cruel being, who quite obviously took delight in turning dreams into nightmares. _I just wanted to see her, one last time, alive. I just wanted to see her, one last time. I just wanted to see her. I just wanted to see. _Of COURSE the Truth would take that away from him! He had given it his deepest desire, and the Truth had slammed him in the face with it, then taken it away forever. He would never see Granny. Or Winry, or anyone! He would never see anything again because of one spur-of-the-moment decision! The whole world was full of light and colour and beauty and smiling faces who could see all of it, and now he would never see any of it. It was all gone to him, and it would never, ever come back, because the Truth was cruel. The Truth was hard. But it was the Truth. The Truth only takes away the equivalent of the gain. Ed had sacrificed his sight. But what had he gained? He he lost so much, but what was his reward?

His reward was knowledge. The dark, haunting, bitter knowledge that all along it was impossible. That right from the start he was running a fool's errand. He was an idiot who thought that alchemy could do anything. Create anything. Destroy anything. He had thought that it was an all-powerful art, something that could even bring the dead back to life. He had thought that the equivalent to a human soul was some simple blood, because he was so interested in the scientific fact that blood kept you alive that he was foolish enough to believe it could be 'soul data', his exact words had been. What a fool he was. And the Truth had showed him, all right. He had showed him big time. And now he didn't even need to see his lesson to know what it was.

Alchemy wasn't an all-powerful art, not at all. It could not create everything, nor destroy everything. And the last thing it could ever do was return someone dead to the land of the living. The dead was dead, they were gone forever, and not even alchemy could change that.

Death wasn't a game. You could read all the books in the world, watch every movie and cheat every match, but you could not toy with life and death. Life wasn't permanent. Once you are born, you are a person of your own. You had your own way of life, your own likes and dislikes. Your own friends and family. You had your own hobbies, and favourites, and sometimes those things changed. Sometimes you will dislike something you once liked, or like something you once disliked. Sometimes someone you used to consider your friend will turn on you, leave you, or maybe you will be the person to betray them, it all depends on who you are. Sometimes your family will leave you, or maybe you will leave them. Perhaps a hobby might become an annoying task, or a favourite might become an object of loathing for you.

Every human being on earth had their own life and soul.

But they are also a ticking time bomb.

Every human will, eventually, die. There is simply no escaping death. There is no such thing as immortality. It is a feeble idea created by simple minds who do not wish to die. Even a human Philosopher's Stone will eventually run out of energy and their life will end. It is an inescapable fact of life, and it is okay to fear it. It is a natural human instinct to fight for your life when it is in danger, because everyone fears what lies beyond. Even those who believe in Heaven after earth will fight for their life because, in that split second when you think you might die, there is a part of you that questions your beloved Heaven. There is a small portion of you that fears Heaven might not be there. And so you fight, because you are not ready to die.

But once you do, there is no coming back from Heaven. Once you go beyond the Gate, into the Paradise beyond, into Heaven, the sacred place where God and his son reside, you can never come back. You are gone, and all the prayers and tears and alchemy in the world can't change that.

This...this is what Edward gained from his sacrifice. This knowledge that he should have already known.


	9. Chapter Nine: Freedom

**Hullo. Kala here. I know it's been so long since I've updated this one, and I'm sorry to say there won't be any more for a while yet. Sorry. I'm focused completely on Morphed at the present moment. The reason this one is up though is because I just got back from my week in Hell today, and I went to start chapter thirteen for Morphed, and I see that this document (which I started way too long ago) only has a few days of life left before ffn removes it. So I decided I'd finish it and post it and be done with it. **

**So here you go. Not as long as my regular chapters, but it's twice as long as what my standard used to be when I last updated this, so it's reasonable for this particular story. **

**Anyway, Enjoy. :D**

* * *

"Dammit, crashed into the wall again." Edward muttered to himself as he did just that. It had been...well...Edward actually wasn't exactly sure how long it had been since he'd committed the great taboo of alchemy, _again, _and lost his sight as the toll, but he had the feeling it had been quite a while. By this point he'd more or less gotten used to not being able to see, but it was still a giant pain in the ass. He'd managed to memorize how many steps in each direction it took to navigate his small room, but sometimes, like this one, his mind wandered and he forgot to count, and he would crash into something.

It was annoying how many times that had happened.

Another thing that was annoying him at the present moment was his lack of food. It felt like it had been days since Envy had last visited him in this dreary cell, bringing with him the most interesting thing that Edward had to look forward to these days, which was saying something, because the meals never exactly varied.

He was still keeping himself fit by doing push ups and sit ups and various other activities that one used to keep oneself in shape: who knew when the chance to escape might arise? Either way, it was also another thing that kept him busy.

Back to his initial train of thought, Ed was hungry. There was no food for him to eat, but there was, however, a heck of a lot of noise coming from somewhere in the underground maze where the Homunculi lived. He could hear people shouting and what was the unmistakable crackle of alchemy, an art he had long ago given up. Ed wondered what the Hell was going on. He shrugged, heading back towards his bed. Whatever it was, it wasn't like he was going to get to take part. He was absolutely itching to get into a good fight, but it wouldn't exactly be fair, considering his impairment.

"Hey, Edward?" Dr Marcoh called from the cell opposite him. Dr Marcoh had arrived here long after Edward had, and very rarely did he engage in conversation, apparently preferring to sit in silence and mull over his beloved village, but on the occasions that he did talk, he wasn't very fun to converse with, so Edward didn't try anymore."Do you know what's going on?"

"How the Hell should I know, old man?" He snapped in annoyance.

Marcoh did not answer.

Edward huffed and crossed his arms behind his head, listening to the sounds, hoping the bastard Homunculi were getting their immortal asses kicked.

Suddenly there was a huge explosion, and Edward jumped upright in his bed, because it sounded much too close. "Marcoh! You okay?" He called, without thinking. Despite not particularly liking the man, he was still the type of person to worry about everyone.

"I'm fine, Edward." Marcoh called back. "The explosion missed me by a long shot."

"Good," Ed murmured, and suddenly he was filled with dread. He'd never thought to ask this question, and he was ashamed of himself for that, and for not thinking of it for a very long time, but suddenly the fear was real and there and it was clenching at his heart. "Marcoh, when you first came in here, did you happen to pass by a girl? She's just a little kid, with blonde hair and blue eyes?"

Marcoh apparently had to think about the question for a moment, and the few seconds he made Edward wait were agony. "Actually, I think I may have." He said slowly.

"Where was she? Where's Winry?!"

"I think she was a few blocks down from here. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure the explosion wasn't anywhere near her."

Edward dropped on his knees to the cold floor - he hadn't even realized that he'd stood up - in relief at this news. At least she was alive and safe. She was probably frightened beyond all measure, she was only a little girl, after all. He put his head in his hands and prayed to a God he didn't believe in that she would be okay, and that she wouldn't hate him as she should. After everything he'd done to her family - gotten Uncle and Aunty Rockbell killed, gotten granny killed, and then killed her all over again, Winry would have to hate him. He would think her insane if she didn't, but he just wanted to know that she didn't. He just wanted her to be near him, now more than ever, so he could protect her.

In his own self loathing and desire, he hadn't noticed the noises dying down. Everything sounded still, like all the inhabitants in the world were holding their breath, as he was, waiting for something to happen.

And then something did.

Screaming burst forth from the silence, sounding even louder than it was because of it. The screamer sounded in pain. Definitely in pain. He could hear other voices now, shouting and pleading. And laughing. Above all other noises, he could hear Envy laughing. But the screams disturbed him. Between them, he could hear the person making the God-awful noise saying things. He couldn't make out what was being said, but the accent was not Amestrian. It sounded...Xingese. And male. It was a male man from Xing who was screaming. That intrigued Edward; why would someone from Xing be all the way down here, in the dead center of Amestris?

Another sound made it's way to Ed's ears: the sound of flesh being mutilated. The sound made him shudder in disgust, and he wondered what the Hell was happening to the Xingese man...no...not a man...a boy, Edward decided, taking more care to listen to the voice. It wasn't deep enough for him to be a full grown man yet.

As abruptly as it began, the screaming stopped.

Edward frowned, standing up, taking steps toward the door he knew was locked from the outside, but experimentally turning the knob anyway. Locked. Drat. He sighed and waited for his next meal.

* * *

Somehow, Edward had managed to fall asleep, and he was woken with a start when he heard footsteps move cautiously over the grate above Ed's cell. "What the Hell?" He said to himself, looking upwards instinctively, despite the gesture being utterly useless.

"Is someone down there?" Said a male voice that Edward could swear he recognized, but could not place.

"Yeah, who the Hell is up there?" Edward said back. Whoever it was did not answer, but Ed had to cover his ears to block out the noise of the grate being moved, and then the unmistakable sound of feet landing on a cement floor sounded right beside him, and he flinched. "Dammit, who the Hell are you?" He asked.

"You're Edward Elric, aren't you?" The man said, avoiding the question.

"Yeah...You noticed..." Ed murmured, casting his unseeing eyes down to the floor.

"I remember you, you fought for my people in the Civil War, you personally saved the lives of my brother and I, you transmuted a hole in the ground for us to hide in at the last second so we wouldn't be hit by Basque Grand's weapons."

"Oh yeah...I remember that..." Edward said slowly, remembering. "So that's where I recognized your voice from. You're name's -"

"_Don't say my name!_" He interrupted.

"Why not?" Ed asked, curious.

"Because I have renounced it. Since the war ended I have done terrible things, and I do not deserve the name given to me by God." He said.

"Okay then." Edward said, not questioning his friend's decisions. "What should I call you then?"

"Scar."

"Why Scar?" Ed asked.

"Is it not obvious?" 'Scar' asked.

Edward waved his hand in front of where he assumed his eyes were. "Not to a blind man it isn't." He said.

"When did you become blind?" Scar said.

"I really don't want to talk about it." Ed said. "So, I don't suppose you can help me get out of here, can you?"

"Of course. You fought for my people when no one else would, I owe you a great debt."

"Does that great debt include also saving my friend and they guy in the cell next door to me?" He asked, half sarcastically and half genuine pleading.

"Yes, it does."

"How?"

"I have learned a form of destructive alchemy that can easily blow through these walls."

Again, Edward did not question it. Instead, he called out, "Marcoh!"

"Yes" Marcoh called from the other side.

"Get as far back into your cell as you can." Ed told him.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

"Now what?" Marcoh called out, his voice sounding much further away.

"Cover your eyes!" He said, and nodded in Scar's general direction. A few moments later, he heard the crackling of alchemy, and then the wall imploding. He heard Marcoh cough, and, after a few more moments, Scar had blown out the door and they were jogging through the corridor.

"So where is this friend of yours?" Scar asked. Marcoh gave them the directions, and soon enough they were at Winry's cell.

"Winry!" Edward whispered, when he could hear her scream and her sobbing in what he presumed to be the corner of the room.

"Ed?" She whispered back.

"It's me, Win." He said, and a moment later she had launched herself into his arms and was crying on his shirt. It felt good to be holding her in his arms after so long. Like maybe, just maybe, life could go on. They had lost everything. Edward had lost his mother, his brother. And Winry had lost her mother, father, and her grandmother. Whether she knew about the loss of Pinako or not Edward didn't know. He hadn't been out of his cell once since he was put there before now. "Winry, we have to go." He said softly. "Before they realize we've escaped."

"O-okay." She sobbed, pulling away from him.

"Let's go." Scar said.

"Right." Edward nodded. "I presume you know how to get out of here?"

"Of course."

"Then let's get the Hell out of this place." Grabbing Winry's hand, he followed after the sound of Scar's footsteps. In the distance, he could hear the sound of Envy's enraged roaring, and he knew that the Homunculus had realized he was gone. That didn't leave them much time to get out. If Envy or...literally any other Homunculus that happened to be down here, found their three prisoners before they had escaped, there would be Hell to pay. He picked up his pace, pulling the younger girl along with him. He was almost level with Scar now, and he could hear Marcoh's panting breaths close behind him. As they turned a corner, he felt a slight breeze brush his hair, and a smile broke across his face. That was the first fresh air he had felt in a long, long time.

"This way." Scar called. "There isn't far to go now."

Suddenly the hairs on Ed's neck stood up, and he heard Envy's laughter from behind them. _Really? _He thought. _We were so close! _"Where the Hell do you think you're going?" The snide voice said.

"Away from you, bastard!" Edward called back, not stopping for a moment. Neither did any of his companions.

"Hey, I didn't say you could leave!" Envy growled, and Ed heard his heavy footsteps as he pounded towards them. There was a buzzing sound coming from him, a crackling sound, and Edward realized that the creature was changing form, altering himself in some way, to hinder their escape.

"Oh no you don't!" Scar growled from beside him, and the familiar sound of alchemy crackled from him as well. His hand shot out, inches from the back of Ed's neck, and slammed against the wall. It crumbled in a line towards the Homunculus, and he heard Envy cry out when it exploded next to him. "That should buy us enough time, come on!" Edward needed no encouraging, and he plunged forward, following the older Ishvalan as he turned another corner. Another burst of fresh air, much fuller than the last, exploded onto his face. "We're out!" Scar exclaimed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Envy wouldn't dare chase them out onto the streets. Too many people, and, as sadistic as he was, it wouldn't work to his advantage.

But Edward didn't bother too long on that. He was outside. He was in the open again. He could feel the sunlight on his face, could feel the cool breeze ruffle his hair, and he could hear the sounds of the city once more. Finally.

He was free.


End file.
